A Harry Potter Story
by thunderbird
Summary: AU! In this story, Harry learns that his parents are still alive and that his aunt and uncle lied to him, the only problem is that they are both still in a coma. Harry still gets aide from Ron and Hermione as well as a new comer in order to stop Voldemort
1. Prologue The Attack

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and it's characters do not belong to me. They belong to belong to J.K. Rowling. Sailor Moon and it's characters also do not belong to me. They belong to Takeuchi Naoko and Kodansha. Also belongs to Bandai, Disney, Toei Animation.

Authors note: I am using a few of the Characters from Sailor Moon in this story; however, while in this story, they will not be super heroes. They are meant to be witches or wizards in the story. I got the idea to do this story from reading stories from authors such as Beth-chan the ultimate H/U fan who wrote the story known as 'Wizards in Japan at the Magical Room!' and Cindra who is currently writing her 'Harry Potter The Boy Who Lives' series. I would also like to give a shout out to OCMICKEY who helped me out with the reaction James had to the Cruciatus Curse as well as for most of the conversation that goes on between Remus and Dumbledore. After correspondence with Cindra, I have decided to try and take my story in a new way. I hope you like it.

A Harry Potter Story: Book 1

Author: Thunderbird

Co-Author: Guardian of the Angels

Beta-reader: OCMICKEY

Rated: Unknown

**Prologue**

'The Attack'

The country of England was in the grip of an evil mad man's quest for power. The man's name was Tom Marvolo Riddle, but he went around calling himself Lord Voldemort. Lord Voldemort as he was now called went on a killing spree with a bunch of witches and wizards who were drawn to his side with the promise of power. They killed people with no magical powers what so ever. These people were known in the magical world as muggles. Lord Voldemort and his followers also killed muggle-born witches and wizards as well as half bloods. Muggle-borns are witches and wizards whose parents have no magical powers what so ever, while half-bloods are witches and wizards who have either a mother or father with magical powers and backgrounds.

Many people in the wizarding world were against Lord Voldemort and his followers. One certain family who was among these people were the Potters. The husband's name was James Harold Potter. He was a tall man with a median build; he had messy black hair and hazel colored eyes. James also wore a pair of glasses so that he could see. His wife's name was Lily Elizabeth Potter. Lily was a tall thin woman with long shoulder length red hair, and she had deep green emerald eyes. The Potters had two sons, both twins each closely resembled the other. The only difference was that their son Darien Endymion Potter had his father's hazel eyes, while their other son, Harry James Potter had emerald green eyes like their mother.

A prophecy dealing with the Potter Family one day foretold that a child would be born to parents who had thwarted Lord Voldemort three times and that he would have a power that the dark lord knows not. The problem with this was that due to the fact that they had twins, no one knew for sure who the prophesied chosen one was.

The twins were both born on July 31, 1980. And for the Potter family this was a gift from heaven. During the coming year, both Harry and Darien had a great life with their parents as well as for their honorary aunts and uncles and other friends of the family.

Unfortunately, there came a time in their lives when they learned that one of their own had become a spy for the dark lord. No one was certain who it was so for safety reasons the Potter family was sent into hiding. James's best friend Sirius was to be their secret keeper, but he thought that would be to obvious so he begged James to make Peter the secret keeper claiming that no one would suspect Peter of being the Potter's secret keeper. Little did anyone know that that might be the thing that gets the Potter family killed.

It was a cold dark rainy night on the night of October 31st 1981 in the quant little town of Godric's Hollow. On a one-way street sat many houses that dotted the area. One house in particular was a beautiful two story house with white painted wood walls. Inside the house, Lily was in the middle of making James and her dinner while James was in the living room reading a book. The twins, Harry and Darien were both in playpens nearby playing with a toy snitch that would zoom around them while they tried to get their pudgy little figures around it.

"James, dinner's ready! Can you turn on the baby monitor and bring the receiver in here so we can hear the twin in case they need us!" Lily called into the living room from the kitchen.

"Sure, Lily." James said as he went about doing what Lily wanted before walking into the kitchen leaving the twins in the playpen.

Sometime later, while James and Lily were still in the kitchen eating, both the twins stopped playing, because they heard a strange noise coming from outside. The twins decided to try and get their parents attention.

"Dada!" Harry yelled.

"Mama!" Darien followed suit.

"What is it?" James asked as he and Lily rushed into the room. It was at that moment that James saw a dark shadow rush past one of the windows. "Lily, take the boys and go upstairs now!" He ordered picking up one of the boys while she picked up the other. He then handed her the boy he had in his arms and gently pushed her towards the stairs.

"James what's going on?" Lily asked trying to balance both of her boys in her arms.

"I think he's here! So go now! There's no time to wait!" James ordered.

Lily quickly and carefully ran up the stairs with her boys while James got ready to face the intruders that were at that moment circling the house. A minute later, the front door was blown in by a very powerful Reducio spell. From the thick smoke from where the door came a black cloaked man whose face was covered by the hood of his robes. The only thing of his face you could see were the eyes that were snake like and red like the color of blood. This man was none other than Lord Voldemort.

"Ah, James my boy do be a good boy and step aside so that I can do away with your troublesome brat!" Voldemort ordered.

"If you think I'm going to step aside and let you just walk upstairs and kill my sons, you've got another thing coming!" James yelled.

"So, you have two sons! I wasn't told about that. Pity, good help is so hard to find." Voldemort said as a look of anger passed over his eyes. He then calmed down and a sinister laugh passed over his lips. "Do you want to know how I found out about where you were?" He asked silkily.

"Not particularly." James muttered.

"Well that's just to bad, because I'd like to see you squirm before I finally decide what to do with you. Anyway, for my enjoyment more or less yours, I was given the information as to your whereabouts by a certain rat we both know, but you know him better as Wormtail!" Voldemort said with a smug grin.

"NO! YOU'RE LYING, PETER WOULD NEVER BETRAY US TO YOU!" James roared at the top of his lungs.

"Temper, temper James." Voldemort cackled. 'It's sad but true. Your little Wormtail turned on you and has been spying on you for me. Now are you going to move or am I going to have to be violent?"

"The only way I'd let you pass was if you killed me." James hissed out in anger.

"Believe me, I'd want nothing better to do then to kill you and be done with it, but I have plans to make you suffer before I do it, so enjoy this small reprieve." Voldemort said as he raised his wand to waist level. "Crucio!"

James had been hit with Crucio many times and had screamed out during his times as an Auror, this however was different he couldn't give the psycho the satisfaction of hearing him scream. James shut his eyes tightly and screwed his mouth shut and dealt with the pain the best way he knew how. There was no way of meditating this pain away and he just refused to give Riddle the sense of satisfaction of him screaming if he somehow survived this (very unlikely in his own mind) how would he live down the humiliation of screaming and crying in front of Moldy Voldy.

After a few minutes, Voldemort stopped his fun making James feel pain then with a flick of his wand said, "Petrificus Totalus!"

"Now you will be forced to watch as I destroy the rest of your family before I finally end your pathetic life!" Voldemort sneered as he levitated James off the ground and then he turned to his Death Eaters who stood around the living room now. "I want you all to go outside and secure the house. Once that is done, come up stairs to the nursery where we can all bask in the knowledge that the Potter family will be dead." Voldemort then turned and slowly walked up the stairs with James slowly floating behind him.

Once on the second floor, Voldemort made his way slowly towards the room where the sounds of babies crying could be heard. Once he was at the door, Voldemort raised his wand and pointed it at the door.

"Reducto!" Voldemort yelled as a white light left his wand and flew towards the door, disintegrating it in an instant. Voldemort then walked into the room with James silently floating behind him still. "Ah, Lily it's so good to finally see you again. Now do be a smart mud-blood and get the hell out of the way!" Voldemort ordered.

Lily stood in front of the crib where both her sons were currently laying and wouldn't budge. "Think again Riddle! You may kill James and I but there is no way in hell he or I would ever let you get your hands on our children!"

"That could be easily arranged; however, I believe like James, I shall force you to watch as I kill your children as well. But first for your disrespectful mouth, I believe I shall make you suffer!" Voldemort stated as he raised his wand and pointed it directly at Lily. "Crucio!"

"Ahhhh!" Lily cried out in pain as she fell to her knees.

"Where's your mouth now. Mudblood? Come on, cat got your tongue?" Voldemort asked cackling.

"Hmm, I do believe I am enjoying this, but all good things must come to an end." Voldemort said as he ended the Cruciatus Curse and then shouted, "Petrificus Totalus!"

This caused Lily to stop screaming and become ramrod straight with her eyes wide frozen in horror. Voldemort then walked up to the crib while at the same time stepping over Lily's prone body.

"Ah so you are the two sons of James and Lily Potter! It is a shame I have to kill you both, but alas, I am unsure which of you will be the one to finally put an end to my life. Besides, you all will soon be joining each other together in hell! Who will be first though, that is the question? I know I'll just kill aim at the one with the eyes of his mother!" Voldemort stated as he raised his wand to face Harry. "Avada Kedavra!"

The green eerie light flew at young Harry Potter but much to the surprise of all the adults in the room, a miraculous event occurred. The killing curse struck Harry but instead of killing him, it bounced off of him and flew right back at the caster. When the killing curse struck Voldemort, it hit with such a force that it threw James and Lily into the walls that both were nearby. Each of them struck their heads on a sharp object rendering them unconscious. Young Darien was also thrown backwards but unlike his parents, he didn't strike anything when he fell unconscious.

When Voldemort's Death Eaters came into the room, they saw both James and Lily laying on the floor with some blood covering the back of their heads while their one of their sons was laying on his back unconscious as well. The other son was staring up at the masked men with deep emerald green eyes. The only sign of their leader and master were worn and tattered robes laying on the floor in front of the twins.

"What in the world is going on here? How can our master be gone?" One of the Death Eaters asked no one in particular.

"I'm not sure, but I think we'd better get out of here. I think a group of Aurors are arriving." Another Death Eater said when he heard the familiar pop of a wizard or witch Apperating.

Right at the moment that the Death Eaters disappeared from the room, a bunch or Aurors and Order of Phoenix members arrived in the room lead by Albus Dumbledore.

"JAMES! LILY!" Remus yelled as he ran to the side of his two best friends upon seeing them laying on the floor unconscious. He felt for their pulse and felt both of their pulses strong against his fingers.

"How are they Remus?" Albus Dumbledore asked concern etched in his features.

"They're unconscious but they'll live."

"Well that is good however these boys are now in severe trouble. We can assume by the cut on Harry's head that Voldemort intended to kill him and Darien, but I don't know why that has failed. How is Darien, Remus?"

"He appears to be fine but unconscious as well but I don't see any gashes or anything on him. So Professor what do we do now? It could be days before James and Lily wake up."

"Unfortunately, not days Remus I believe the type of wounds they received will leave them in a comatose state probably until they die."

"What how could that be Professor?"

"The wounds on the back of their heads are severe the most severe I have seen. I am not sure if the Natural magic that resides in all of us Magical people can repair that type of damage."

"Well then I will take the boys, and I will raise them for James and Lily until they wake up."

"Remus unfortunately I can not allow that. Your condition makes the boys a target for not just present day death eaters but for you during the complete eight day cycle of the full moon I could not allow the boys to be put in that type of danger I am sorry Remus but I can not and the Ministry will not allow that."

"So what will happen?" Remus asked with tears burning his eyes.

"They will be separated. That is the only chance they will have to live. I will place Harry with his mother's relatives and I shall place Darien here with some very distant cousins of mine." Dumbledore informed his fellow order member.

"Moody, could you and Shaklebolt along with two other members of the order take both James and Lily and move them to Hogwarts until I can find a safer place for them?" Dumbledore asked to Aurors as well as Order members.

"At once Dumbledore! Well, you heard the man! Get to work and help us move the Potters to the school at once!" Moody ordered two Auror subordinates.

"Yes sir!" One man snapped to attention before he and another wizard helped Moody and Shaklebolt take both James and Lily out of the room as well as the building.

"Now I shall take the boys with me." Dumbledore said as he lift the two boys up and gently held them in his arms. "Go home Remus, I am afraid there is nothing else you can do here tonight. And please do no follow me."

"Yes, professor." Remus said as he apperated away from the scene of his friends attack.

"Come now boys, it is time for you to go to a place where you can be safe away from Death Eaters." Dumbledore said as he too apperated away from Godric's Hollow.

--

The first stop on Dumbledore's errand was to a beautiful mansion located in Dublin Ireland with vast lawns and an apple orchard to the side of the grounds. An iron gate with a family crest belonging to the family who lived there was encrusted into the gate.

"Well little one, this will be your new home where no Death Eater will find you." Dumbledore said as he gazed down at one of the small babes in his arms.

Dumbledore then walked up to the gate and as if welcoming an old friend the gates opened granting entry to the old wizard and his to precious packages. As he slowly walked up the long grave walk, Dumbledore gazed out over the front lawn and the many lawn sculptures that were spaced out along the walkway. It looked like one day it would be a great place for young Darien.

Once Dumbledore got up to the main doors of the mansion, he knocked three times. It was then that a man far younger than himself answered the door. He had what appeared to be lavender colored hair and piercing blue eyes.

"Albus! What are you doing here at this time of night and who are these children that you're holding?" The man asked concern evident in his voice.

"Hello Endymion, might I come in and explain what the reasons are behind my being here as well as request a place for me to sleep for the night? It has been a long and troubling night." Dumbledore requested.

"Yes, of course! Come inside." Endymion said as she ushered the man and his precious cargo into his home.

When Dumbledore stepped inside with Endymion, both men were greeted by Endymion's wife who had long brown hair and brown eyes.

"Dumbledore, to what do we owe this honor of your visit?" The woman asked and then noticed the two babies in his arms. "And who are these two adorable children?"

"These children are the reason I am here tonight, Elizabeth. May we go into your sitting room so that I can explain the tragic events I have just come from? Also I'd like to put these two somewhere where they can sleep in peace while we talk." Dumbledore informed her.

"Yes of course. Daisy, Blaze could you two come here please!" Elizabeth called out into the entrance hall.

Soon two house elves arrived in the room at their mistress' beck and call.

"You wishes to see us mistress?" The female elf asked.

"Yes, could you and Blaze take these two children to a room for the night while Endymion and I speak with Professor Dumbledore?" Elizabeth asked as she pointed to the children Dumbledore carried.

"We's be happy to Miss." The male also known as Blaze said as he and Daisy walked over to Dumbledore and took the children from him. They then both disappeared from the hall.

"Follow us if you will Dumbledore." Endymion said as he led the professor and his wife to the sitting room.

After the three adults got settled, both Endymion and Elizabeth turned to Dumbledore and waited for him to begin his explanation for being in their home.

"Tonight, the side of light was dealt a heavy blow and a dealt a blow to the followers of darkness as well. Tonight somehow Lord Voldemort found and attacked the Potters at their hiding place at Godric's Hollow." Dumbledore began which caused Elizabeth to gasp in horror. "Now, now, the Potters are just fine; however, due to the attack they were left unconscious and I fear they shall be in a coma for some time to come. I have moved both Lily and James to Hogwarts until a safer place can be found for them until hopefully a time when they wake up."

"But what of the children?" Elizabeth asked concerned in her voice.

"They are the year old twins of the Potters; Darien and Harry Potter. We know the Death Eaters were there, we also know that when we got there, the Death Eaters left before they could finish off the children. When we entered the room, Remus Lupin who you know as a friend of the Potters rushed to their side to learn that they were very much alive only in an unconscious state. We also found Darien unconscious. Harry was sitting up staring at us with a pouty look in his eyes as if wanting to know what happened to his parents. I took the children with me after sending Remus home and came here as my first stop." Dumbledore answered.

"What is it you need from us?" Endymion asked.

"When we arrived in the nursery, we found what we suspect were the discarded robes of Voldemort laying on the ground before the boys and a scar on Harry's forehead. The Order and I suspect that when Voldemort tried to kill the boys, the killing curse backfired on the Dark Lord separating him from his body. There is a chance he could come back some time. Now due to the fact that Darien was unconscious at the time, we believe, at least I hope what he believe is true; the Death Eaters think he is dead. For this reason I think it is safe to say that if you accept my offer, I'd like to leave Darien here with you." Dumbledore said with a heavy sigh.

"You want to separate the two boys! Why?" Elizabeth asked shocked.

"Because if I'm right and I think I am, I believe Harry is the one who did away with Voldemort for the time being I think it is safe to say that he would be a target for more Death Eater attacks. I will place him with a relative of Lily in the Muggle world. I think Darien will be safe here with you due to the fact that as I said we believe the Death Eaters think he is dead as well as their parents." Dumbledore said with a sad sigh.

"Yes, of course. We'd love to take care of Darien for both James and Lily. I just hope they can be brought out of their comas." Elizabeth told him.

"So do I, Elizabeth. So do I." Dumbledore agreed.

"In the meantime, please except I hospitality for the night. It will allow the boys to spend their last day together." Endymion said with a warm smile.

"Thank you my friends. I believe I shall take you up on your offer." Dumbledore said with a smile.

Elizabeth then had another house elf show Dumbledore to a guest room while they themselves went to bed themselves.

--

The next night in another part of the English isles, in a small town known as Little Whinging located somewhere near London, England along a street known as Privet Drive where hardly anything happened that no one didn't know about, a cat sat on a fence across the street from a two story white painted house with a chain looped with steel bars placed every twelve feet or so in order to keep people from walking on the well manicured lawns. This house was number four in the line and if you looked close enough, you could tell that the cat didn't wish to be there.

Suddenly Dumbledore arrived on the scene. He had young Harry Potter in his left arm while with his right hand, he rummaged through his cloak, looking for something. But he did realize that he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was now staring at him from across the street. For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him.

He chuckled and muttered to himself, "I should have known."

He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter. He flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop. He clicked it again - the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Deluminater, until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. If anyone looked out of their window now, even the relatives of Lily Potter who lived in Number 4 Privet dr., they wouldn't have been able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement. Dumbledore then slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street toward Number 4, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat and gently positioned Harry where he wouldn't fall out of his arms.

"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall." Dumbledore said as he turned and smiled down at the tabby, but it had gone.

Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled.

"How did you know it was me?" Professor McGonagall asked perplexed.

"My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly." He informed her.

"You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day." She told him.

"All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here." Dumbledore said with a soft chuckle.

Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily. "Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right." She said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no - even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head back towards the Dursleys' dark living-room window of Number 4. "I head it. Flocks of Owls…Shooting stars…Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent - I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."

"You can't blame them." Dumbledore said gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."

"I know that." Professor McGonagall said irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumors."

She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though he was going to tell her something, but he didn't, so she went on.

"A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really is gone, Dumbledore?" She finally asked concern written on her features.

"Yes, it would certainly seem so." Dumbledore said. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?"

"A what?" She asked perplexed by his last question.

"A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of." He told her.

"No, thank you." Professor McGonagall said coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops. "As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone -" she tried to continue only to be stopped by Dumbledore.

"My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You-Know-Who' nonsense - for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort." Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was pulling a lemon drop out of his pocket, seemed not to notice. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name."

"I know you haven't." Professor McGonagall said, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, Voldemort, was frightened of."

"You flatter me." Dumbledore said calmly. "Voldemort has powers I will never have."

"Only because you're too - well - noble to use them." McGonagall told him.

"It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs." Dumbledore said with a smile.

Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and says, "The owls are nothing next to the rumors that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"

It seemed that Professor McGonagall had finally reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold, hard wall all day, for neither as cat nor as woman had she fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as she did now. It was plain that whatever "everyone" was saying, she was not going to believe it until Dumbledore told her it was true. Dumbledore; however, was choosing another lemon drop and did not answer.

"What they're saying." She pressed on. "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are - are - that they're - dead."

"My dear Minerva, this must never get out to anyone except you, me, the Order and Madam Pomfrey. The Potters are not dead. They are safe back at the school in the hospital wing where they will stay until I can send them somewhere safe. They are in a deep coma that I am not sure they will even wake up." He informed her.

"Oh thank goodness for small miracles. What of the babies?" She asked and then it was for the first time that she noticed the small baby in his arm. "Which of the twins is he?"

"This Professor McGonagall, is young Harry Potter. His brother is safe with a distant cousin of mine in another part of England where he will be raised outside of the Death Eater's radar."

"Did Voldemort really try to kill the children?" She asked worriedly.

"Yes, it's true; however, for some reason, we are not sure about at this time. Voldemort wasn't able to do it." Dumbledore said.

"My lord!" Professor McGonagall faltered. "After all he's done…all the people he's killed…he couldn't kill either Harry or Darien? It's just astounding…of all the things to stop him…but how in the name of heaven did the boys survive?"

"As I said, Minerva." Dumbledore said. "We can only guess. And we may never know."

"Very well, but I do have something else to ask you!" Professor McGonagall said fixing him with a stern look in her eyes.

"And that would be what exactly, my dear Professor?" Dumbledore asked an amused grin crossing his lips.

"Why is it exactly that you are here, and why did you bring Harry with you?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"It's quite simply, my dear Professor." Dumbledore said with a sigh. "I have come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. Aside from Darien and their parents who are at this moment in a coma, these people are the only family he has left now."

"You don't mean - you can't mean the people who live here?" Professor McGonagall cried, jumping to her feet and pointing at Number 4. "Dumbledore - you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son - I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter come and live here!"

"It's the best place for him." Dumbledore said firmly. "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter."

"A letter?" Professor McGonagall repeated faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand him! He'll be famous - a legend - I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter day in the future - there will be books written about Harry - every child in our world will know his name, including his own brother who if I'm guessing right, won't know he's his brother until a later date."

"Exactly." Dumbledore said, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! Can't you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it! My word, his brother will be thought dead by everyone as well so Darien will be able to grow up with out that hanging over his head. I have no doubt though that when the time comes, he too will be found out and have to live with it as well."

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes - yes, you're right, of course. Shall we get on with this then?"

"Yes, I think it is time we went about finishing our business here." Dumbledore said as she stood up from the brick wall and crossed the street with Professor McGonagall following suit.

They both stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. Professor Dumbledore then laid Harry gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blankets, and then both he and McGonagall stared down at the tiny boy before they walked back over to the area across the street. They continued to stare at Number 4 Privet dr. for a few more minutes before Dumbledore decides it's time to go.

"Well." Dumbledore said finally. "That's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go join the celebrations. I shall see you during the new school year, Minerva."

Professor McGonagall just blew her nose as she walked off into the night.

Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of Number 4.

"Good luck, Harry." He murmured. He then turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone.

--

A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, and the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley…He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter - the boy who lived!"

To be continued….

We hope you liked the first installment on my Harry Potter story. This chapter was a mixture of my own thoughts, my brother's as well as chapter one of Harry Potter: And The Sorcerer's Stone. Be on the look out for Chapter 1 of this story to be out as soon as we have all the details down for what we want to do in it. Be on the look out for Darien to return in the next chapter and a as the English would say a real fisticuffs to take place among certain adults. If you liked this chapter please review it at the bottom of the screen.

©Harry Potter And The Sorcerer's Stone 1997 J. K. Rowling. Is published by Scholastic Press, a division of Scholastic Inc.

©Sailor Moon 1992 Takeuchi Naoko and Kodansha. Also belongs to Bandai, Disney, Toei Animation, ©DIC 1997, Rino records, for the songs, and all others associated with rights.


	2. Chapter 1 The Zoo & A Skirmish

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and it's characters do not belong to me. They belong to belong to J.K. Rowling. Sailor Moon and it's characters also do not belong to me. They belong to Takeuchi Naoko and Kodansha. Also belongs to Bandai, Disney, Toei Animation.

Authors note: I am using a few of the Characters from Sailor Moon in this story; however, while in this story, they will not be super heroes. They are meant to be witches or wizards in the story. I got the idea to do this story from reading stories from authors such as Beth-chan the ultimate H/U fan who wrote the story known as _'Wizards in Japan at the Magical Room!'_ and Cindra who is currently writing her _'Harry Potter The Boy Who Lives' _series. I would also like to give a shout out to OCMICKEY whose timeline was existential in using correct dates in this chapter. After correspondence with Cindra, I have decided to try and take my story in a new way. I hope you like it.

Authors note #2: The first part of the story is mostly taken from the second chapter of the book. Please bare with me, I don't mean to return to the book but I find that it is of great help in this story, mostly at this stage in the series.

_Thoughts _

_Flash Back_

" Speech "

' _parseltounge '_

_A Harry Potter Story: Book 1_

Author: Thunderbird

Beta-reader: OCMICKEY

Rated: Unknown

Chapter 1

_The Zoo & A Skirmish'_

**W**ith James and Lily Potter safely tucked away in an undisclosed location, and Darien living with another family happily unaware of the terrible past he came from, while his brother was being raised by their aunt and uncle in the Muggle world, things in the wizarding world began to quiet down over the years, while whispers could still be heard from time to time about where their savior the Boy-Who-Lived was located at. What they didn't know; however, is that the people who were charged with caring for Harry were treating him like a common house elf. At the age of five, Harry was made to cook and clean while his cousin got to sit around and play all day.

Then nearly ten years later on June 22 1991, events would occur that would have not only Harry but another family tired of his so-called relatives actions.

Today Harry Potter found himself asleep at the moment without a care in the world, but that would not last for long. His Aunt Petunia was awake and it was her shrill voice that made the first noise of the day.

"Up! Get up! Now!" She ordered through the door.

Harry woke up with a start due to his aunt's insufferable rapping on the door yet again.

"Up!" She screeched again.

Harry heard her walk toward the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the stove. He rolled onto his back and tried to remember the dream he had been having. It was a good one, yet it was strange at the same time. There was an old man and woman in it as well as a boy that looked just like him, except he had brown eyes. He had a funny feeling he'd had the same dream before. His aunt was once again outside the door.

"Are you up yet?" She demanded.

"Nearly." Harry answered.

"Well, get a move on. I want you to look after the bacon. And don't you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy's birthday." Petunia ordered.

This caused Harry to groan.

"What did you say?" His aunt snapped through the door.

"Nothing, nothing…" Harry trailed off as he bowed his head in misery.

Dudley's birthday - how could he have forgotten? Harry got slowly out of bed and started looking for socks. He found a pair under his bed and, after pulling a spider off one of them, put them on. Harry was used to spiders, because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that was where he slept.

When he was dressed he went down the hall into the kitchen. The table was almost hidden beneath all of Dudley's birthday presents. It looked as though Dudley had gotten the new computer he wanted, not to mention the second television and the racing bike. Exactly why Dudley wanted a racing bike was a mystery to Harry, as Dudley was very fat and hated exercise - unless of course it involved punching somebody. Dudley's favorite punching bag was Harry, but he couldn't often catch him. Harry didn't look it, but he was very fast.

Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but Harry had always been small and skinny for his age. He looked even smaller and skinner than he really was because all he had to wear were old clothes of Dudley's, and Dudley was about four times bigger than he was. Harry had a thin face, knobby knees, black hair, and bright emerald green eyes. He wore round glasses held together with a lot of Scotch tape because of all the times Dudley had punched him in the nose. The only thing Harry liked about his own appearance was a very thin scar on his forehead that was shaped like a bolt of lightning. He had it as long as he could remember, and the first question he could ever remember asking his Aunt Petunia was how he had gotten it.

"In the car crash when your parents died." She had said. "And don't ask questions."

_Don't ask questions _- that was the first rule for a quiet life with the Dursleys.

Uncle Vernon entered the kitchen as Harry was turning over the bacon.

"Comb your hair!" He barked, by way of a morning greeting.

About once a week, Uncle Vernon looked over the top of his newspaper and shouted that Harry needed a haircut. Harry must have had more haircuts than the rest of the boys in his class put together, but it made no difference, his hair simply grew that way - all over the place.

Harry was frying eggs by the time Dudley arrived in the kitchen with his mother. Dudley looked a lot like Uncle Vernon. He had a large pink face, not much neck, small, watery blue eyes, and think blonde hair that lay smoothly on his thick, fat head. Aunt Petunia often said that Dudley looked like a baby angel - Harry often said that Dudley looked like a pig with a wig.

Harry put the plates of egg and bacon on the table, which was difficult as there wasn't much room. Dudley, meanwhile, was counting his presents. His face fell.

"Thirty-six," He said, looking up at his mother and father. "That's two less than last year."

"Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present, see, it's here under this big one from Mommy and Daddy." Petunia said trying to pacify her son before he started throwing a fit.

"All right, thirty-seven then." Dudley said, going red in the face.

Harry, who could see a huge Dudley tantrum coming on, began wolfing down his bacon as fast as possible in case Dudley turned the table over.

Aunt Petunia obviously scented danger, too, because she said quickly, "And we'll buy you another two presents while we're out today. How's that, popkin? Two more presents. Is that all right?"

Dudley thought for a moment. It looked like hard work. Finally he said slowly, "So I'll have thirty…thirty…"

"Thirty-nine, sweetums." Aunt Petunia told him.

"Oh." Dudley said as he sat down heavily and grabbed the nearest parcel. "All right then."

Uncle Vernon chuckled.

"Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father. 'Atta buy, Dudley!" He ruffled Dudley's hair.

At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Harry and Uncle Vernon watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a video camera, a remote control airplane, sixteen new computer games, and a VCR. He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petunia came back from the telephone looking both angry and worried.

"Bad news, Vernon." She said. "Mrs. Figg's broken her leg. She can't take him." She jerked her head in Harry's direction.

Dudley's mouth fell open in horror, but Harry's heart gave a leap. Every year on Dudley's birthday, his parents took him and a friend out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger restaurants, or the movies. Every year, Harry was left behind with Mrs. Figg, a mad old lady who smelled of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made him look at photographs of all the cats she'd ever owned.

"Now what?" Aunt Petunia asked, looking furiously at Harry as though he'd planned this. Harry knew he ought to feel sorry that Mrs. Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn't easy when he reminded himself it would be a whole year before he had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr. Paws, and Tufty again.

"We could phone Marge." Uncle Vernon suggested.

"Don't be silly, Vernon she hates the boy." Aunt Petunia said in an almost sad voice.

The Dursleys often spoke about Harry like this, as though he wasn't there - or rather, as though he was something very nasty that couldn't understand them, like a slug.

"What about what's-her-name, your friend - Yvonne?" Vernon asked.

"On vacation in Majorca." Aunt Petunia snapped.

"You could just leave me here." Harry put in hopefully (he'd be able to watch what he wanted on television for a change and maybe even have a go on Dudley's computer).

Aunt Petunia looked as though she'd just swallowed a lemon.

"And come back and find the house in ruins?" She snarled.

"I won't blow up the house." Harry said, but they weren't listening.

"I suppose we could take him to the zoo." Aunt Petunia said slowly. "…and leave him in the car…"

"That car's new, he's not sitting in it alone…" Vernon refused venomously.

Dudley began to cry loudly. In fact, he wasn't really crying - it had been years since he'd really cried - but he knew that if he screwed up his face and wailed, his mother would give him anything he wanted.

"Dinky Duddydums don't cry, Mummy won't let him spoil your special day!" She cried, flinging her arms around him.

"I…don't…want…him…t-t-to come!" Dudley yelled between huge, pretend sobs. "He always sp-spoils everything!" He shot Harry a nasty grin though the gap in his mother's arms.

Just then, the doorbell rang - "Oh, good lord, they're here!" Aunt Petunia said frantically - and a moment later, Dudley's best friend, Piers Polkiss, walked in with his mother. Piers was a scrawny boy with a face like a rat. He was usually the one who held people's arms behind their backs while Dudley hit them. Dudley stopped pretending to cry at once and a large grin formed on his face.

"Hiya Dudley! How you doing so far? Ready to go to the zoo?" Pier asked with a sly grin on his face.

"Yeah, but it appears that my idiot cousin has to come with us." Dudley said with a groan.

"We could always loose him in the crowd." Pier suggested with a smirk.

"Afraid we can't do that either." Dudley said with a sigh.

"Just ignore the boy, son. Let me worry about the boy. You and your friend just enjoy yourselves." Vernon said with a smile plastered on his face.

Yes, sir!" Both boys stated with pleased grins on their faces.

A few minutes later as the Dursleys and the children all piled into the car, Vernon stopped Harry before he could climb into the back seat.

"I'm warning you." Uncle Vernon hissed down at Harry, as he put his large purple face right up close to Harry's. "I'm warning you now, boy - any funny business, anything at all - and you'll be in that cupboard from now until Christmas."

"I'm not going to do anything." Harry told him. "honestly…"

But Uncle Vernon didn't believe him. No one ever did.

The problem was, strange things often happened around Harry and it was just no good telling the Dursleys he didn't make them happen.

Once, Aunt Petunia, tired of Harry coming back from the barbers looking as though he hadn't been at all, had taken a pair of kitchen scissors and cut his hair so short he was almost bald except for his bangs, which she left "to hide that horrible scar." Dudley had laughed himself silly at Harry. Who spent a sleepless night imagining school the next day, where he was already laughed at for his baggy clothes and taped glasses. Next morning; however, he had gotten up to find his hair exactly as it had been before Aunt Petunia had sheared it off. He had been given a week in his cupboard for this, even though he had tried to explain that he couldn't explain how it had grown back so quickly.

Another time, Aunt Petunia had been trying to force him into a revolting old sweater of Dudley's (brown with orange puff balls). The harder she tried to pull it over his head, the smaller it seemed to become, until finally it might have fitted a hand puppet, but certainly wouldn't fit Harry. Aunt Petunia decided it must have shrunk in the wash and, to his great relief, Harry wasn't punished.

On the other hand, he'd gotten into terrible trouble for being found on the roof of the school kitchens. Dudley's gang had been chasing him as usual hen, as much to Harry's surprise as anyone else's, there he was sitting on the chimney. The Dursleys had received a very angry letter from Harry's headmistress telling them Harry had been climbing school buildings. But all he'd tried to do (as he shouted at Uncle Vernon through the locked door of his cupboard) was jump behind the big trash cans outside the kitchen doors. Harry supposed that the wind must have caught him in mid-jump.

But today, nothing was going to go wrong. It was even worth being with Dudley and Piers to be spending the day somewhere that wasn't school, his cupboard, or Mrs. Figg's cabbage-smelling living room.

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It was a very sunny Saturday and the zoo was crowded with families. The Dursleys brought Dudley and Piers large chocolate ice creams at the entrance and then, because the smiling lady in the van had asked Harry what he wanted before they could hurry him away, they bought him a cheap lemon ice pop. It wasn't bad, either, Harry thought, licking it as they watched a gorilla scratching its head who looked remarkably like Dudley, except that it wasn't blonde.

Harry had the best morning he'd had in a long time. He was careful to walk a little way apart from the Dursleys so that Dudley and Piers, who were starting to get bored with the animals by lunchtime, wouldn't fall back to their favorite hobby of hitting him. They ate in the zoo restaurant, and when Dudley had a tantrum because his knickerbocker glory didn't have enough ice cream on top, Uncle Vernon bought him another one and Harry was allowed to finish the first.

Harry felt, afterward, that he should have known it was all too good to last.

After lunch they went to the reptile house. It was cool and dark in there, with lit windows all along the walls. Behind the glass, all sorts of lizards and snakes were crawling and slithering over bits of wood and stone.

Unknown to the Dursleys or Harry, another family was also inside the reptile house looking at all the different reptiles. Their young son who was an exact replica of Harry ran over to one of the windows and called over to his parents.

"Mum, Dad, take a look at this cool looking Iguana!" The boy that looked like Harry exclaimed excitedly.

"Calm down, Darien. We've got all the time in the world today to look at the animals. They're not going anywhere." His father said with a kind smile.

While the other family was looking at the Iguana on one side of the reptile house, Dudley quickly found the largest snake in the place. It could have wrapped its body twice around Uncle Vernon's car and crushed it into a trash can - but at the moment it didn't look in the mood. In fact, it was fast asleep.

Dudley stood with his nose pressed against the glass, staring at the glistening brown coils.

"Make it move." He whined at his father.

Uncle Vernon tapped on the glass, but the snake didn't budge.

"Do it again!" Dudley ordered.

Uncle Vernon rapped the glass smartly with his knuckles, but the snake just snoozed away.

"This is boring." Dudley moaned, as he shuffled away from the snake.

As Dudley walked across the room, he caught sight of who he thought was Harry staring at an Iguana looking very interested in it.

_Time to make the little freak's life miserable again!_, Dudley thought as a sneer crossed his lips as he doubled his efforts to get over to the Iguana cage.

When he got there, completely ignoring the two adults close by, Dudley pushed the boy out of the way very hard, knocking him to the ground.

"Out of the way freak!" Dudley sneered down at the boy who looked like Harry before he began laughing hysterically.

"You think that's funny do you kid?" Darien snarled as he got back up. "I'll show you want happens to those who treat people they don't even know with disrespect!" Darien continued to snarl as he suddenly punched Dudley right in the face.

"HARRY POTTER WHAT ON EARTH DO YOU THINK YOUR DOING?!" Uncle Vernon roared as he stomped over to the two boys. "I'LL TEACH YOU TO PUNCH MY SON LIKE THAT! YOU UNGRATFUL BRAT!" Vernon continued to roar at he raised his hand as if to slap Darien across the face.

It was then that a hand with an iron clad grip suddenly found it's way around Vernon's wrist.

"If you dare slap my son, I will have you arrested so fast, you won't know what hit you!" A very threatening male voice hissed in anger from Vernon's side.

"You're blind, sir! This isn't your son, this is my nephew! I'd think I would know my own nephew by now." Vernon said as he turned his attention away from the boy and to the man next to him.

"And I would know my own son! This is my son Darien and though I do not acknowledge his right to hit your son. I also don't acknowledge the right for your son to push my son or call him a freak. Now kind leave my family and I alone or I shall call the police and you will not like that I most assure you of that." The man said.

"Very well, but rest assured if I ever see your son around my son again and he hits him like he did now, I shall call the authorities myself. Come along Dudley." Vernon ordered.

"All right!" Dudley said getting to his feet and walking away with his father as he threw a glare towards Darien.

"Let's go, Darien. I believe we should try to stay as far away from those people as possible." His mother said.

"Mother, were those Muggles?" Darien asked quietly as not to draw attention to themselves.

"Yes, my boy. Those were Muggles and if you ask me, the worst of the bunch." His father informed his son before he thought, _I just hope James and Lily wake up soon so that we can get your brother away from those people._

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Meanwhile a few minutes earlier back over with the snake cage that Dudley and his father had just left, Harry moved in front of the tank and looked intently at the snake. He wouldn't have been surprised if it had died of boredom itself - no company except stupid people drumming their fingers on the glass trying to disturb it all day long. It was worse than having a cupboard as a bedroom, where the only visitor was Aunt Petunia hammering on the door to wake you up; at least he got to visit the rest of the house.

The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes. Slowly, very slowly, it raised it head until its eyes were on a level with Harry's

It winked.

Harry stared. Then he looked quickly around to see if anyone was watching. They weren't. he looked back at the snake and winked, too.

The snake then jerked its head toward Uncle Vernon and Dudley, both of which were in the middle of an argument with another family, while at the same time, it then raised its eyes towards the ceiling. It gave Harry a look that said quite plainly: "I get that all the time."

"I know." Harry murmured through the glass, though he wasn't sure the snake could hear him. "It must be really annoying."

The snake nodded vigorously.

"Where do you come from, anyway?" Harry asked.

The snake jabbed its tail at a little sign next to the glass. Harry peered at it.

**Boa Constrictor, Brazil**

"Was it nice there?" Harry asked again.

The boa constrictor jabbed its tail at the sign again and Harry read on.

**This specimen was bred in the zoo**

"Oh, I see - so you've never been to Brazil?" Harry asked a third time.

As the snake shook its head, a deafening shout behind Harry made both of them jump.

"DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT IT'S DOING!" The loud voice of Pier shouted through the reptile house.

Dudley came waddling toward them as fast as he could.

"Out of my way, you." Dudley said punching Harry in the ribs.

Caught by surprise, Harry fell hard on the concrete floor. What came next happened so fast no one saw how it happened - one second, Piers and Dudley were leaning right up close to the glass, the next, they had leapt back with howls of horror.

Harry sat up and gasped; the glass front of the boa constrictor's tank had vanished. The great snake was uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out onto the floor. People throughout the reptile house screamed and started running for the exits.

As the snake slid past him, Harry could have sworn a low, hissing voice said, "Brazil, here I come…Thanksss, amigo."

The keeper for the reptile house was in shock.

"But the glass." He kept saying. "Where did the glass go?"

The zoo director himself made Aunt Petunia a cup of strong, sweet tea while he apologized over and over again. Piers and Dudley could only gibber. As far as Harry had seen, the snake hadn't done anything except snap playfully at their heels as it passed, but by the time they were all back in Uncle Vernon's car, Dudley was telling them how it had nearly bitten off his leg, while Piers was swearing it had tried to squeeze him to death. But worst of all, for Harry at least, was Piers calming down enough to say, "Harry was talking to it, weren't you, Harry?"

Uncle Vernon waited until Piers was safely out of the house before starting on Harry. He was so angry he could hardly speak. He managed to say, "Go - cupboard - stay - no meals." before he collapsed into a chair, and Aunt Petunia had to run get him a large brandy.

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Harry lay in his dark cupboard much later, wishing he had a watch. He didn't know what time it was and he couldn't be sure the Dursleys were asleep yet. Until they were, he couldn't risk sneaking to the kitchen for some food.

He'd lived with the Dursleys almost ten years, ten miserable years, as long as he could remember, ever since he'd been a baby and his parents had died in that car crash. He couldn't remember being in the car when his parents had died. Sometimes, when he strained his memory during long hours in his cupboard, he came up with a strange vision: a blinding flash of green light and a burning pain on his forehead. This, he supposed, was the crash, though he couldn't imagine where all the green light came from. He couldn't remember his parents at all. His aunt and uncle never spoke about them, and of course he was forbidden to ask questions. There were no photographs of them in the house.

When he had been younger, Harry had dreamed and dreamed of some unknown relation coming to take him away, but it had never happened: the Dursleys were his only family. Yet sometimes he thought (or maybe hoped) that strangers in the street seemed to know him. Very strange strangers they were, too. A tiny man in a violet top hat had bowed to him once while out shopping with Aunt Petunia and Dudley. After asking Harry furiously if he knew the man, Aunt Petunia had rushed them out of the shop without buying anything. A wild-looking old woman dressed all in green had waved merrily at him once on a bus. A bald man in a very long purple coat had actually shaken his hand in the street the other day and then walked away without saying a word. The weirdest thing about all these people was the was they seemed to vanish the second Harry tried to get a closer look.

At school, Harry had no one. Everybody knew that Dudley's gang hated that odd Harry Potter in his baggy old clothes and broken glasses, and nobody liked to disagree with Dudley's gang.

But soon another event would occur that would prove to Harry just how wrong he was about not having anybody in his life to be friends with.

To be continued….

I hope you liked the second installment on my Harry Potter story. Like the last chapter, this chapter was a mixture of my own thoughts, my brothers as well as chapter one of _Harry Potter: And The Sorcerer's Stone_. Be on the look out for Chapter 2 of this story to be out as soon as I have all the details down for what I want to do in it

©Harry Potter And The Sorcerer's Stone 1997 J. K. Rowling. Is published by Scholastic Press, a division of Scholastic Inc.

©Sailor Moon 1992 Takeuchi Naoko and Kodansha. Also belongs to Bandai, Disney, Toei Animation, ©DIC 1997, Rino records, for the songs, and all others associated with rights.


	3. Chapter 2 The Letters Arrive

-1Disclaimer: Harry Potter and it's characters do not belong to me. They belong to belong to J.K. Rowling. Sailor Moon and it's characters also do not belong to me. They belong to Takeuchi Naoko and Kodansha. Also belongs to Bandai, Disney, Toei Animation.

Authors note: I am using a few of the Characters from Sailor Moon in this story; however, while in this story, they will not be super heroes. They are meant to be witches or wizards in the story. I got the idea to do this story from reading stories from authors such as Beth-chan the ultimate H/U fan who wrote the story known as _'Wizards in Japan at the Magical Room!'_ and Cindra who is currently writing her _'Harry Potter The Boy Who Lives' _series. I would also like to give a shout out to OCMICKEY whose timeline was existential in using correct dates in this chapter. After correspondence with Cindra, I have decided to try and take my story in a new way. I hope you like it.

Authors note #2: This chapter is basically a retelling of the third chapter of the book. Please bare with me, I don't mean to return to the book but I find that it is of great help in this story, mostly at this stage in the series.

_ Thoughts _

_Flash Back_

" Speech "

' _parseltounge '_

_A Harry Potter Story: Book 1_

Author: Thunderbird

Beta-reader: OCMICKEY

Rated: Unknown

Chapter 2

_The Letters Arrive_

**T**he escape of the Brazilian boa constrictor earned Harry his longest-ever punishment. By the time he was allowed out of his cupboard again, the summer holidays had started and Dudley had already broken his new video camera, crashed his remote control airplane, and, first time out on his racing bike, knocked down old Mrs. Figg as she crossed Privet Drive on her crutches.

Harry was glad school was over, but there was no escaping Dudley's gang, who visited the house every single day. Piers, Dennis, Malcolm, and Gordon were all big and stupid, but Dudley was the biggest and stupidest of the lot, he was the leader. The rest of them were all quite happy to join in Dudley's favorite sport: Harry hunting.

This was why Harry spent as much time as possible out of the house, wandering around and thinking about the end of the holidays, where he could see a tiny ray of hope. When September came he would be going off to secondary school and, for the first time in his life, he wouldn't be with Dudley. Dudley had been accepted at Uncle Vernon's old private school, Smeltings. Piers Polkiss was going there too. Harry on the other hand, was going to Stonewall High, the local public school. Dudley thought this was very funny.

"They stuff people's heads down the toilet the first day at Stonewall." Dudley told Harry. "Want to come upstairs and practice?"

"No, thanks." Harry said. "The poor toilet's never had anything as horrible as your head down it - it might be sick." Then he ran, before Dudley could work out what he'd said.

One day in July, Aunt Petunia took Dudley to London to buy his Smeltings uniform, leaving Harry at Mrs. Figg's. Mrs. Figg wasn't as bad as usual. It turned out she'd broken her leg tripping over one of her cats, and she didn't seem quite as fond of them as before. She let Harry watch television and gave him a bit of chocolate cake that tasted as though she'd had it for several years.

That evening, Dudley paraded around the living room for the family in his brand-new uniform. Smeltings' boys wore maroon tailcoats, orange knickerbockers, and flat straw hats called boaters. They also carried knobbly sticks, used for hitting each other while the teachers weren't looking. This was supposed to be good training for later life.

As he looked at Dudley in his new knickerbockers, Uncle Vernon said gruffly that it was the proudest moment of his life. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and said she couldn't believe it was her Ickle Dudleykins, he looked so handsome and grown-up. Harry didn't trust himself to speak. He thought two of his ribs might already have cracked from trying not to laugh.

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There was a horrible smell in the kitchen the next morning when Harry went in for breakfast. It seemed to be coming from a large metal tub in the sink. He went to have a look. The tub was full of what looked like dirty rags swimming in grey water.

"What's this?" He asked his aunt. Her lips tightened as they always did if he dared to ask a question.

"Your new school uniform." She told him,

Harry looked in the bowl again.

"Oh," He said. "I didn't realize it had to be so wet."

"Don't be stupid." Aunt Petunia snapped. "I'm dyeing some of Dudley's old things gray for you. It'll look just like everyone else's when I've finished."

Harry seriously doubted this, but thought it best not to argue. He sat down at the table and tried not to think about how he was going to look on his first day at Stonewall High - like he was wearing bits of old elephant shin, probably.

Dudley and Uncle Vernon came in, both with wrinkled noses because of the smell from Harry's new uniform. Uncle Vernon opened his newspaper as usual and Dudley banged his smelting stick, which he carried everywhere, on the table.

They then heard the click of the mail slot and the flop of letters on the doormat.

"Get the mail, Dudley." Uncle Vernon said from behind his paper.

"Make Harry get it." Dudley whined.

"Get the mail, Harry." Uncle Vernon ordered.

"Make Dudley get it." Harry whined.

"Poke him with your Smelting stick, Dudley." Uncle Vernon suggested.

Harry dodged the Smelting stick and went to get the mail. Three things lay on the doormat: a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister Marge, who was vacationing on the Isle of Wight, a brown envelope that looked like a bill, and - _a letter for Harry_.

Harry picked it up and stared at it, his heart twanging like a giant elastic band. No one, ever, in his whole life, had written to him. Who would? He had no friends, no other relatives - he didn't belong to the library, so he'd never even got rude notes asking for books back. Yet here it was, a letter, addressed so plainly there could be no mistake:

Mr. H. Potter

The Cupboard under the Stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

The envelope was thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and the address was written in emerald-green ink. There was no stamp.

Turning the envelope over, his hand trembling, Harry saw a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms; a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter _H_.

"Hurry up, boy!" Uncle Vernon shouted from the kitchen. "What are you doing, checking for letter bombs?" He chuckled at his own joke.

Harry went back to the kitchen, still staring at his letter. He handed Uncle Vernon the bill and the postcard, sat down, and slowly began to open the yellow envelope.

Uncle Vernon ripped open the bill, snorted in disgust, and flipped over the postcard.

"Marge's ill." He informed Aunt Petunia. "Ate a funny whelk…" He continued but was interrupted by Dudley.

"Dad!" Dudley exclaimed suddenly. "Dad, Harry's got something!"

Harry was on the point of unfolding his letter, which was written on the same heavy parchment as the envelope, when it was jerked sharply out of his hand by Uncle Vernon.

"That's _mine_!" Harry exclaimed, trying to snatch it back.

"Who'd be writing to you?" Uncle Vernon sneered, shaking the letter open with one hand and glancing at it. His face went from red to green faster than a set of traffic lights. And it didn't stop there. Within seconds it was the grayish white of old porridge.

"P-P-Petunia!" He gasped.

Dudley tried to grab the letter to read it, but Uncle Vernon held it high out of his reach. Aunt Petunia took it curiously and read the first line. For a moment it looked as though she might faint. She clutched her throat and made a chocking noise.

"Vernon! Oh my goodness - Vernon!" She exclaimed shocked by the letter.

They stared at each other, seeming to have forgotten that Harry and Dudley were still in the room. Dudley Wasn't used to being ignored. He gave his father a sharp tap on the head with his Smelting stick.

"I want to read that letter." He said loudly.

"_I_ want to read it." Harry said furiously. "as it's _mine_."

"Get out, both of you." Uncle Vernon croaked, stuffing the letter back inside its envelope.

Harry didn't move.

"I WANT MY LETTER!" He shouted.

"Let _me_ see it!" Dudley demanded.

"OUT!" Uncle Vernon roared, as he took both Harry and Dudley by the scuffs of their necks and threw them into the hall, slamming the kitchen door behind them. Harry and Dudley promptly had a furious but silent fight over who would listen at the keyhole; Dudley won, so Harry, his glasses dangling from one ear, lay on his stomach to listen at the crack between door and floor.

"Vernon," Aunt Petunia was saying in a quivering voice. "look at the address - how would they possibly know where he sleeps? You don't think they're watching the house?"

"Watching - spying - might be following us." Uncle Vernon muttered wildly.

"But what should we do, Vernon? Should we write back? Tell the we don't want -" Petunia began to ask only to be stopped in the middle of her second sentence.

Harry could see Uncle Vernon's shiny black shoes pacing up and down the kitchen.

"No." He said finally. "No, we'll ignore it. If they don't get an answer….Yes, that's best….we won't do anything…"

"But -" Petunia began to rebut but was stopped by Vernon.

"I'm not having one in the house, Petunia! Didn't we swear when we took him in we'd stamp out that dangerous nonsense?" Vernon asked ending the subject.

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That evening when he got back from work, Vernon did something he'd never done before; he visited Harry in his cupboard.

"Where's my letter?" Harry asked, the moment Uncle Vernon had squeezed through the door. "Who's writing to me?"

"No one. It was addressed to you by mistake." Uncle Vernon said shortly. "I have burned it."

"It was _not_ a mistake," Harry said angrily. "it had my cupboard on it."

"SILENCE!" Uncle Vernon yelled, and a couple of spiders fell from the ceiling. He took a few deep breaths and then forced his face into a smile, which looked quite painful.

"Er - yeas, Harry - about this cupboard. Your aunt and I have been thinking…you're really getting a bit big for it…we think it might be nice if you moved into Dudley's second bedroom."

"Why?" Harry asked perplexed.

"Don't ask questions!" Uncle Vernon snapped. "Take this stuff upstairs, now."

The Dursleys' house had four bedrooms: one for Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, one for visitors (usually Uncle Vernon's sister, Marge), one where Dudley slept, and one where Dudley kept all the toys and things that wouldn't fit into his first bedroom. It only took Harry one trip upstairs to move everything he owned from the cupboard to this room. He sat down on the bed and stared around him. Nearly everything in here was broken. The month-old video camera was lying on top of a small, working tank Dudley had once driven over the next door neighbor's dog; in the corner was Dudley's first-ever television set, which he'd put his foot through when his favorite program had been canceled; there was a large birdcage, which had once held a parrot that Dudley had swapped at school for a real air rifle, which was up on a shelf with the end all bent because Dudley had sat on it. Other shelves were full of books. They were the only things in the room that looked as though they'd never been touched.

From downstairs came the sound of Dudley bawling at his mother, "I don't _want _him in there…I _need_ that room…make him get out…"

Harry sighed and stretched out on the bed. Yesterday he'd have given anything to be up here. Today he'd rather be back in his cupboard with that letter than up here without it.

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The next morning at breakfast, everyone was rather quiet. Dudley was in shock. He'd screamed, whacked his father with his Smelting stick, been sick on purpose, kicked his mother, and thrown his tortoise through the greenhouse roof, and he still didn't have his room back. Harry was thinking about this time yesterday and bitterly wished he'd opened the letter in the hall. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia kept looking at each other darkly.

When the mail arrived, Uncle Vernon, who seemed to be trying to be nice to Harry, made Dudley go and get it. They heard hi banging things with his Smelting stick all the way down the hall.

Then he shouted, "There's another one! 'Mr. H. Potter, The Smallest bedroom, 4 Privet Drive -"

With a strangled cry, Uncle Vernon leapt from his seat and ran down the hall, Harry right behind him. Uncle Vernon had to wrestle Dudley to the ground to get the letter from him, which was made difficult by the fact that Harry had grabbed Uncle Vernon around the neck from behind. After a minute of confused fighting, in which everyone got hit by the Smelting stick, Uncle Vernon straightened up, gasped for breath, with Harry's letter clutched in his hand.

"Go to your cupboard - I mean, your bedroom." He wheezed at Harry. "Dudley - go - just go."

Harry walked round and round his new room. Someone knew he had moved out of his cupboard and they seemed to know he hadn't received his first letter. Surely that meant they'd try again? And this time he'd make sure they didn't fail. He had a plan.

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The repaired alarm clock rang at six o'clock the next morning. Harry turned it off quickly and dressed silently. He mustn't wake the Dursleys. He stole downstairs without turning on any of the lights.

He was going to wait for the postman on the corner of Privet Drive and get the letters for number four first. His heart hammered as he crept across the dark hall toward the front door -

"AAAAARRRGH!"

Harry leapt into the air; he'd trodden on something big and squashy on the doormat - something _alive_!

Lights clicked on upstairs and to his horror Harry realized that the big, squashy something had been his uncle's face. Uncle Vernon had been lying at the front door in a sleeping bag, clearly making sure Harry didn't do exactly what he'd been trying to do. He shouted at Harry for about half an hour and then told him to go make a cup of tea. Harry shuffled miserably off into the kitchen and by the time he got back, the mail had arrived, right into Uncle Vernon's lap. Harry could see three letters addressed in green ink.

"I want -" He began, but Uncle Vernon was tearing the letters into pieces before his eyes.

Uncle Vernon didn't go to work that day. He stayed home and nailed up the mail slot.

"See," He explained to Aunt Petunia through a mouthful of nails, "if they can't _deliver _them they'll just give up."

"I'm not sure that'll work, Vernon." Petunia said doubting his plan.

"Oh, these people's minds work in strange ways, Petunia, they're not like you and me." Uncle Vernon said, trying to knock in a nail with a piece of fruitcake Aunt Petunia had just brought him.

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On Friday, no less than twelve letters arrived for Harry. As they couldn't go through the mail slot they had been pushed under the door, slotted through the sides, and a few even forced through the small window in the downstairs bathroom.

Uncle Vernon stayed at home again. After burning all the letters, he got out a hammer and nails and boarded up the cracks around the front and back doors so no one could get out. He hummed "Tiptoe Through the Tulips" as he worked, and jumped at small noises.

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On Saturday, things began to get out of hand. Twenty-four letters to Harry found their way into the house, rolled up and hidden inside each of the two dozen eggs that their very confused milkman had handed Aunt Petunia through the living room window. While Uncle Vernon made furious telephone calls to the post office and the dairy trying to find someone to complain to, Aunt Petunia shredded the letters in her food processor.

"Who on earth wants to talk to _you_ this badly?" Dudley asked Harry in amazement.

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On Sunday morning, Uncle Vernon sat down at breakfast table looking tired and rather ill, but happy.

"No post on Sundays," He reminded them cheerfully as he spread marmalade on his newspaper. "no damn letters today -"

Something came whizzing down the kitchen chimney as he spoke and caught him sharply on the back of the head. Next moment, thirty or forty letters came pelting out of the fireplace like bullets. The Dursleys ducked, but Harry leapt into the air trying to catch one -

"Out! OUT!"

Uncle Vernon seized Harry around the waist and threw him into the hall. When Aunt Petunia and Dudley had run out with their arms over their faces, Uncle Vernon slammed the door shut. They could hear the letters streaming into the room, bouncing off the walls and floor.

"That does it," Uncle Vernon said, trying to speak calmly but pulling great tufts out of his mustache at the same time. "I want you all back here in five minutes ready to leave. We're going away. Just pack some clothes. No arguments!"

He looked so dangerous with half of his mustache missing no one dared argue. Ten minutes later they had wrenched they way through the boarded-up doors and were in the car, speeding toward the highway. Dudley was sniffling in the back seat; his father had hit him round the head for holding them up while he tried to pack his television, VCR, and computer in his sports bag.

They drove. And they drove. Even Aunt Petunia didn't dare ask where they were going. Every now and then Uncle Vernon would take a sharp turn and drive in the opposite direction for a while.

"Shake 'em off…shake 'em off." He would mutter whenever he did this.

They didn't stop to eat or drink all day. By nightfall Dudley was howling. He'd never had such a bad day in his life. He was hungry, he'd missed five television programs he'd wanted to see, and he'd never gone so long without blowing up and alien on his computer.

Uncle Vernon stopped at last outside a gloomy-looking hotel on the outskirts of the big city. Dudley and Harry shared a room with twin beds and damp, musty sheets. Dudley snored but Harry stayed awake, sitting on the windowsill, staring down at the lights of passing cars and wondering…

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They ate stale cornflakes and cold tinned tomatoes on toast for breakfast the next day. They had just finished when the owner of the hotel came over to their table.

"Scuse me, but is one of you Mr. H. Potter? Only I got about an 'undred of these at the front desk."

She held up a letter so they could read the green ink address:

Mr. H. Potter

Room 17

Railview Hotel

Cokeworth

Harry made a grab for the letter but Uncle Vernon knocked his hand out of the way. The woman stared.

"I'll take them." Uncle Vernon said, standing up quickly and following her from the dining room.

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"Wouldn't it be better just to go home, dear?" Aunt Petunia suggested timidly, hours later, but Uncle Vernon didn't seem to hear her.

Exactly what he was looking for, none of them knew. He drove them into the middle of a forest, got out, looked around, shook his head, got back in the car, and off they went again. The same thing happened in the middle of a plowed field., halfway across a suspension bridge, and at the top of a multilevel parking garage.

"Daddy's gone mad, hasn't he?" Dudley asked Aunt Petunia dully late that afternoon. Uncle Vernon had parked at the coast, locked them all inside the car, and disappeared.

It started to rain. Great drops beat on the roof of the car. Dudley sniveled.

"It's Monday," He told his mother. "The Great Humberto's on tonight. I want to stay somewhere with a _television_."

Monday. This reminded Harry of something. If it _was_ Monday - and you could usually count on Dudley to know the days of the week, because of television - then tomorrow, Tuesday, was Harry's eleventh birthday. Of course, his birthdays were never exactly fun - last year, the Dursleys had given him a coat hanger and a pair of Uncle Vernon's old socks. Still, you weren't eleven every day.

Uncle Vernon was back and he was smiling. He was also carrying a long, thin package and didn't answer Aunt Petunia when she asked what he'd bought.

"Found the perfect place!" He said. "Come on! Everyone out!"

It was very cold outside the car. Uncle Vernon was pointing at what looked like a large rock way out at sea. Perched on top of the rock was the most miserable little shack you could imagine. One thing was certain, there was no television in there.

"Storm forecast for tonight!" Uncle Vernon said gleefully, clapping his hands together. "And this gentleman's kindly agreed to lend us his boat!"

A toothless old man came ambling up to them, pointing, with a rather wicked grin, at an old rowboat bobbing in the iron-gray water below them.

"I've already got us some rations," Uncle Vernon said. "so all aboard!"

It was freezing in the boat. Icy sea spray and rain crept down their necks and a chilly wind whipped their faces. After what seemed like hours, they reached the rock, where Uncle Vernon, slipping and sliding, led the way to the broken-down house.

The inside was horrible; it smelled strongly of seaweed, the wind whistled through the gaps in the wooden walls, and the fireplace was damp and empty. There were only two rooms.

Uncle Vernon's rations turned out to be a bag of chips each and four bananas. He tried to start a fire but the empty chip bags just smoked and shriveled up.

"Could do with some of those letters now, eh?" He asked cheerfully.

He was in a very good mood. Obviously he thought nobody stood a chance of reaching them here in a storm to deliver mail. Harry privately agreed, though the thought didn't cheer him up at all.

As night fell, the promised storm blew up around them. Spray from the high waves splattered the walls of the hut and a fierce wind rattled the filthy windows. Aunt Petunia found a few moldy blankets in the second room and made a bed up for Dudley on the moth-eaten sofa. She and Uncle Vernon went off to the lumpy bed next door, and Harry was left to find the softest bit of floor he could and curl up under the thinnest, most ragged blanket.

The storm raged more and more ferociously as the night went on. Harry couldn't sleep. He shivered and turned over, trying to get comfortable, his stomach rumbled with hunger. Dudley's snores were drowned by the low rolls of thunder that started near midnight. The lighted dial of Dudley's watch, which was dangling over the edge of the sofa on his fat wrist, told Harry he'd be eleven in ten minutes' time. He lay and watched his birthday tick nearer, wondering if the Dursleys would remember at all, wondering where the letter writer was now.

Five minutes to go. Harry heard something creak outside. He hoped the roof wasn't going to fall in, although he might be warmer if it did. Four minutes to go. Maybe the house in Privet Drive would be so full of letters when they got back that he'd be able to steal one somehow.

Three minutes to go. Was that the sea, slapping hard on the rock like that? And (two minutes to go) what was that funny crunching noise? Was the rock crumbling into the sea?

One minute to go and he'd be eleven. Thirty seconds…twenty…ten…nine - maybe he'd wake Dudley up, just to annoy him - three…two…one…

**BOOM!**

The whole shack shivered and Harry sat bolt upright, staring at the door. Someone was outside, knocking to come in.

To be continued….

I hope you liked the third installment on my Harry Potter story. This chapter is basically a retelling of what happened in Chapter 3 of _Harry Potter: And The Sorcerer's Stone_. I give full rights and credit to J.K. Rowling who created the book series to begin with. Now a little word of warning, I am moving soon so I won't be able to post for a while due to losing the internet for a while. I promise that though I won't be able to post I am still writing this story and as soon as my internet is set back up, I will post the next chapter of my story.

©Harry Potter And The Sorcerer's Stone 1997 J. K. Rowling. Is published by Scholastic Press, a division of Scholastic Inc.

©Sailor Moon 1992 Takeuchi Naoko and Kodansha. Also belongs to Bandai, Disney, Toei Animation, ©DIC 1997, Rino records, for the songs, and all others associated with rights.


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